


What We Left Behind

by Nellblazer



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Breeding, Choking, Dark Steve, Dark Steve Rogers, F/M, Obsessive Behavior, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Spanking, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:00:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28251279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nellblazer/pseuds/Nellblazer
Summary: Your mother introduces you to Steve Roger’s Post-Snap support group but is Steve really looking out for your best interests?Hello @queenoftheworldisdead ! This is your festive fic swap piece and I hope you enjoy it! Merry Christmas!From the @darkmcuficswap challenge.*Please do not replicate my work anywhere else without my permission*
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 157





	What We Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Stalking, Invasion of privacy, Dubcon, Noncon, Spanking, Choking, Breeding Kink
> 
> (Possible proof reading errors)

Another day, another meeting.

Steve sometimes wondered why he kept turning up at the little community centre, why he so resolutely tried to keep the wheels on when so many people had given up during the Snap. The hopelessness he saw on a daily basis, the despair...sometimes he could barely stand it.

When he got to the centre he was bracing himself for the tide of negativity, the usual breakdowns and the long silences but he had to keep doing this. He had to keep helping. It was the only way he could stay sane.

The session was long, some positive news for once with the man who'd managed to start dating again for the first time in years. By the end of it, Steve felt a little more optimistic.

One of the regular women, who'd lost her husband in the event came up to him afterwards, gushing about how helpful this all was. She meant well but she was quite overbearing and he was relieved when she said her daughter was here to collect her.

“Oh here she is!” she calls. “Poor thing lost her fiancé in the you-know-what but she's coping much better than I am.”

“Mom?” he hears a voice behind him.

Steve's heart stopped in his chest. He had never seen a more beautiful woman but it was a beautiful sadness that lingered in your features. Your mother was absolutely wrong if she thought you were coping well because Steve could clearly see you weren't.

“I'm just talking to Captain America,” your mother fusses. “This is my daughter. Isn't she lovely?”

“Mom, stop it,” you get embarrassed.

“She is,” Steve is courteous but understanding to you.

“And the Captain is single too,” she carries on.

“ _Mom!_ ” you groan. “Mr Rogers, I'm so sorry.”

“Don't worry about it,” Steve laughs.

“I just need to use the restroom before we go,” your mother scuttles off, no so subtly nudging you forward with a glance.

“I really am sorry about her. She likes to interfere a lot,” you seem apologetic.

“Like I say, don't worry about it. I think she just wants to see you happy. She talks about you a fair amount.”

“I'm sure she does.”

“It's all good. Nothing bad,” he says hastily. “She just says you seem lonely.”

You stare at the floor and your sorrow is bared for him to see. He feels a deep clench in his chest and an overwhelming urge to soothe you, to hold you close, to do anything to make you smile.

“I still miss him, my fiancé that is,” you sigh. “I don't mean to add to your day, Mr Rogers. I'm sure you hear people's tales of woe enough.”

“Steve, please,” he corrects. “You know I run another session in the middle of the week if you'd like to come talk about it. That way you could avoid coming with your mom if she makes you uncomfortable.”

“She means well, she just....I put on a brave face and mostly take care of her.”

“Then come along. You need an outlet too. You know what, I don't mean to press. Totally up to you. I'm here to help.”

“Middle of the week?” you look up shyly.

“Wednesdays at six in the evening. We have cookies and coffee, soda if you don't like coffee.”

“I'll think about it. Thank you, Steve.”

Then you left with your mother who kept glancing backwards over her shoulder. You even glanced back yourself once before you went out of the door.

Steve hoped you would come back. If you did, he swore he would do everything he could to take care of you.

**

Wednesday came and you were waiting there with a cup in your hand looking a little nervous.

He just smiled at you when you caught his eye and you relaxed a little. He could always make anyone in the vicinity feel safe. It was a gift and a gift he relished. He liked taking care of people.

“Alright everyone, settle down,” he calls and the din dulls to nothing. “Some new faces in the room today. Just wanna let you know there's no pressure to speak, we're just airing our feelings, talking things out and supporting one another. Bonnie, why don't you tell us how you've been this week? Get us started?”

Bonnie launches into her usual tirade about dating after the Snap and how she keeps finding people that use her as a replacement for girlfriends lost to Thanos' actions. Steve just tunes it out, eyes flicking to you occasionally as you sit there raptured by her rambling monologue.

Gradually the group gets going and when Steve asks for anyone else's story in a lull, a quiet spot, he's surprised that you pipe up. Normally newcomers stay silent the first time they attend.

“My boyfriend....” you start strong but your voice cracks towards the end. “He was actually in the middle of a proposal when it happened. We'd spent the morning on boats by the coast, ate at a nice restaurant for lunch and he was down on one knee halfway through the question. I didn't understand what was going on at first but then everyone started disappearing around me. It's been....it's been hard. I would've said yes. I would've been so excited to say yes but I'll never get the chance to. I haven't really moved on since...apart from one drunken night at a bar but I can't say it was good when I was crying through half of it and he was crying at the end. It's just so....lonely. I've been coping okay but not great. At this point I'm not sure whether it's him I miss or companionship. I can barely remember what his voice was like, how he smelled, how he looked when I woke up before him. I just...I can't remember.”

Steve's heart wrenched at the look on your face. He didn't know why he took it so personally but he did. He wanted to do anything to see a smile there instead.

“And do you think moving on will help?” Steve prompts you. “A lot of people here feel they can't, like it's disrespectful but the honest answer is, we can't be sure anyone is ever coming back and we need to learn to live without our loved ones.”

“And if they come back?” you turn your eyes to his.

“Then we take that day as it comes. We can't keep clinging to it though. Living in a kind of stasis is not healthy.”

“Maybe I need to open up a bit more,” you admit.

“I'm not going to give you homework or anything like that but I'd like you to mull it over for a week and see how it settles with you.”

“I'll try,” you give a weak smile.

The rest of the meeting Steve barely paid attention to but when it came time to leave, he stopped you and pulled you aside.

“You did really well. Not many people are brave enough to speak up that soon,” he tries to reassure you. “I just want you to know it stays within this group and I'm not gonna talk to your mom about what you said.”

“Thank you,” you nod. “I appreciate that. I...god, she was right. This feels a little better not keeping it all inside.”

“It'll ease the more you let it out. Think about what I said though. Don't jump feet first into anything but think it over and come to a decision yourself.”

“And what about you, Mr Rogers? Are _you_ okay?”

Nobody had asked him that apart from Natasha. Nobody ever thought to.

“Steve, please,” he corrects. “And....no. No not really.”

“Wanna talk about it sometime?”

“I don't think it'll make pleasant conversation.”

“Neither did my story,” you shrug, tugging nervously at the ends of your sleeves so they hid your hands. “But I can't imagine being Captain America makes you invulnerable to feeling trauma yourself.”

“I'm used to it,” he crosses his arms over himself. “World War II was no picnic after all. Just more war and more loss. More failure. I'm probably the most expensive mistake America ever made.”

“No you're not. You give people hope. I wouldn't have come here if it wasn't you asking. People trust you, look up to you, no matter what outcome happened. We know you tried as hard as you could.”

Steve's eyes began tearing up. God, you were so earnest.

“Well, ahem, thank you,” he clears his throat. “Be safe out there and I'll see you next week if you're coming.”

“I will be. Goodbye Steve,” you give him a bright smile before leaving the building.

It's like you take the light with you when you go. The community centre feels so dark without your presence.

He knows he shouldn't, he really knows he shouldn't but he follows you out, keeping a safe distance. You still believed in him as a hero and he would uphold that. He'd make sure he protected you on the way home.

Who knows what kind of people were out on the streets any more?

The lie he told himself took on more truth as the area became rougher, an area he'd had to patrol sometimes because of increased burglaries and muggings. Many people's empty apartments had been prime targets for looting in the days since the Snap.

When you got to your apartment building, he snuck in just before the automatic door closed and watched to see what number door you went into before going out onto the fire escape and looking in the window. The window was tragically ineffective, old and paint flaking. You were completely vulnerable to break ins here.

He'd have to follow you back every night. This was unacceptable, especially in the darker months of December as it was.

Just before he was about to leave, he caught a glimpse of you walking in and immediately stripping your pants off, throwing them haphazardly in a laundry basket before collapsing heavily on the couch. Steve froze, unsure what to do, knowing he should go.

Then when your hand dived down into your underwear, it became really hard to tear his eyes away. He could see it wasn't born from lust or want, it was quick relief, a de-stressor technique but still he was stuck in place, watching you furiously work yourself over, rage and grief fuelling your hands before you climaxed, apparently quite weakly and twitched in place, head falling back into the cushions. It took two seconds after that before you began crying, silently at first and then a choked sob that he could hear from his position.

“No,” he says softly, hand on the brickwork of the building. “Don't cry, sweetheart.”

He stayed as long as it took, waiting for you to calm down before finally moving from the fire escape, hoping his presence had somehow helped in a weird way. It was difficult to leave but he had to. He couldn't be caught loitering near someone's window. That wouldn't look good.

When Steve got back to the complex, he couldn't help himself but research everything he could about you. Low paying job after your original company had collapsed due to lack of staff, barely making rent, eating poorly....he even dug into your conversations on social media and saw strained attempts at flirting that ended in you getting cold feet and ghosting potential guys.

“Oh honey. You really downplayed how badly you're doing right now,” he mutters under his breath as he kept scrolling on.

He'd keep you safe though. Such a sweet girl like yourself deserved to still believe in heroes.

**

You came the next week and Steve saw you wrap a cookie in a napkin and store it in your bag.

He knew you were running particularly low on funds and surviving on own brand bread from a dollarstore and it broke him to see you rationing your meals like this. He barely paid attention to anything anybody said in the meeting until you spoke up.

“I've been thinking about what Steve said last time and I think I've come to the conclusion I need to move on. I need to let that fantasy that my fiancé is coming back go. It might never happen. I think...I think I need to start putting myself out there again. I'm tired of being alone and miserable.”

“Well, learn from Bonnie about the type of people to avoid and use your judgement well,” Steve nods. “People are carrying a lot of tragedy with them and acting out of character so bear that in mind.”

After the meeting, he stops you again and waits until everyone has filed out.

“How are you doing?” he asks quietly. “I saw you hiding food in your backpack.”

“Oh. Oh god, I'm sorry,” you immediately pull out the napkins. “I just...”

“You're struggling,” he finishes. “Financially? It's okay, put them back. I'm not going to scold you for it if that's what you think. I just want to help.”

“I'm fine,” you lie. “It's not that bad, really.”

“Sweetheart, it's okay to ask for help. Here,” he pulls some bills out of pocket. “Take this, buy yourself some megapacks of essentials.”

“No, I couldn't. That's too much! Way too much!”

“I won't take no for an answer. I don't need it and you do,” he shoves it into your hand and starts walking off so you can't refuse.

“Steve!” you run after him, your hand so small against his huge shoulder as you tapped him on it. “Steve, wait!”

“I'm not taking it back,” he says firmly.

“I know. I know you've got a stubborn streak, I can see that. I just wanted to say thank you. I...I don't deserve this.”

“Yes you do. Everyone deserves help.”

He doesn't expect you to throw your arms around him, stood on your tiptoes to do so. He takes a second before reciprocating, relishing the warmth of your body, how it moulds to him. You were the missing jigsaw piece that slotted into place and he didn't even know he needed it.

“Thank you,” you whisper before pulling back and smiling. “I'll see you next week.”

“Buy yourself some nicer cookies with that money,” he points. “Now go on. You have shopping to do.”

He watches you turn up the street and waits a good amount of time before following. He follows you to the store and sees you pick up big bags of pasta, rice, filler food for the pantry. Steve is so proud that you're so trustworthy.

You're perfect.

He gets to your house and up the fire escape, watching you make a substantial meal and the difference is startling. He's been watching you for a week already and there's a light back in your eyes.

He looks in the bedroom window as you go to change into something more comfy for the evening but before that happens, your hand goes down your panties again and it's less hurried, less angry. You take your time, string it out and when you cum, he's shocked to hear his name on your lips, trapped in the sound of a perfect moan.

That stays with him all the way home when he compliments your show with one of his own, fist curled around his cock as he lazily pumped, imagining he was buried in you instead.

You were starting to haunt every facet of his life from his dreams to his daydreams and his deepest fantasies. In his mind, you were his perfect girl and he would be your perfect man.

He needed to make a move soon but he didn't want to be too eager, to frighten you so he decided to hold off until a month had passed. That might be acceptable then.

**

By the time the month benchmark approached, Steve had been tailing you everyday.

You'd been going from strength to strength, getting a higher paid job, eating right and getting more sleep. He'd done that. Steve had done that. He was saving you.

He skipped a day due to Avengers work, helping Natasha corral the little force left behind to protect what was left of the population. He didn't mind. Tomorrow he would be seeing you and that would lift his spirits.

When the day came, you looked brighter than ever, regularly smiling and when it came your turn to speak, Steve was anticipating being proud of you.

“So I've been doing well. I got a new job which pays a lot better, I'm not having to worry about food and I think my insomnia is going away.”

“That's great. Well done,” Steve grins, assuming that was the end of it but you kept talking.

“Yesterday I met someone in the grocery store and we clicked really well and he gave me his number. Long story short, I'm meeting him tonight for drinks.”

There's clapping from everyone and Steve does it out of habit but his stomach has dropped through the floor.

Another guy? It didn't make sense. There was _obvious_ chemistry between the two of you and you were moaning his name not two weeks ago. So where the hell had this curveball come from?

“Well alright. Hope it goes well,” the tone was forced and he hoped it wasn't obvious. “Anyone else want to go before we finish?”

When it came time to go, you hung back and he didn't understand why when you had a date to get to but you looked around to make sure you were alone before approaching.

“Steve? Steve are you alright? You don't look so good.”

“Me? Yeah, it's been a long week,” he lies. “Avengers business.”

“Oh alright,” you nod. “I just wanted to make sure you're okay.”

“I'm fine. Don't worry about me. You have something exciting to be getting on with. Good luck with it all.”

You're hovering like you're not sure whether to go and the mixed signals are driving him crazy. He wanted to run you against the wall, pick you up, fuck you until you moaned his name again and the urge was nearly winning out.

God, he wished you'd just leave before he lost his decency.

“Good night, Steve,” you touch his arm before leaving, looking back over your shoulder as went.

Just what exactly did you want? He was confused. Did you want him to chase you? Work for it? He'd do that if that was the case. You were too precious to let walk on by.

So he did something he wasn't particularly proud of. He followed you on every step of the date and just watched. He watched you be beautiful in your nice dress for someone else and it killed him inside. He watched you eat and laugh and talk about nonsense with this guy who definitely wasn't as good looking as Steve was.

Then you both came out and there were flirtatious smiles passed between you that made Steve rage. He wasn't good enough for you, he wasn't. Why didn't you see that?

When you cut through an alley on the way back to your apartment, the guy pushed you against a wall and began kissing you. At first you seemed to respond but when his hands were trying to pull the hem of your dress up, you tried to push back.

“No, stop it. I don't want to do that here,” Steve catches with his enhanced hearing.

“C'mon, you want it, I want it, what's the big deal?” the guy tries grabbing the fabric again.

“LET GO!” you're panicking now. “Stop it!”

Steve waits another few seconds before shouting, “HEY! GET OFF HER!”

Faced with Captain America, the guy books it outta there fast, leaving you against the wall, shaking a little bit. Steve sprints over quickly to check you over.

“Are you okay?!” he pushes your errant hair back so he can see your face.

“Steve? Steve what are you doing here?” you seem dazed.

“I patrol the streets when I can. You know that. You're lucky I was nearby. Can I walk you home?”

“Please,” you bite your lip to stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. “I...thank you. I didn't think he was that kind of guy. He just seemed so nice and....shit, why can't I do this right?”

“Hey,” Steve pulls you into a hug. “Dating is hard enough as it is, never mind after something like the Snap. I told you, people are not who they usually are.”

You cling to his arm as you steer him towards your apartment block and Steve was very careful not to try and take the lead, to look like he knew where he was going. He relished the close contact though.

“Come in,” you put the key in the door. “I'll make you coffee. It's the least I can do.”

“I don't want to intrude.”

“Please.”

“Okay, I can only stay a little while. I need to get back on patrol duty.”

So he finally gets into your apartment, sees it from the inside this time and it's homely, cosy and full of cluttered nick-nacks that speak of sentimental value and of memories. He loves it.

He allowed himself to daydream about what shared ornaments you could get together. What life could you build and display in your home?

“It's french press and I'm sure you're used to finer stuff but it's not bad,” you give him a floral patterned cup.

He takes a sip and yeah, it's not quality but it does the trick. From there it's polite conversation but it's clear you want to be alone, to process the awful night but you're too well-mannered to say. He drinks quickly, eager not to smother you with his presence, even if he wanted to but you needed space.

“Sure you're going to be okay?” he sets the mug down. “That was a scary thing to go through.”

“Yeah...I think...I mean yeah,” you're hugging yourself. “Steve, would you mind passing by a couple of times tonight? I know you probably have a set route but it'd make me feel better.”

“Of course. Anything to make you feel safe.”

“Really Steve, thank you.”

“Any time.”

He doesn't go back but rather hangs out on the fire escape again, making sure you're okay. A few times he has to hang off the railings to not be spotted as you looked out of the window but for the most part, he just watched you curl yourself into the sheets of your bed and cry silently.

This was no way for you to be and he resolved to slip his number under your door tomorrow morning because it was too long to wait another week to talk to you again.

So when dawn came, he did just that before slinking off back to the compound to finally sleep. His back hurt but it'd been worth it to keep an eye on you, to keep you safe.

**

Steve'd managed to get a text relationship going with you and he was very proud of that fact.

He had to get Natasha to demystify some of the lingo you used but she was giving him looks like the texts were pretty positive.

“Hot date?” she nudges him.

“Just being friendly,” Steve mumbles.

“God, live a little, Steve,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “You've been miserable and now you've smiled more in the last month than in the last collective couple of years. Just go be with this girl. You deserve to be happy.”

“You're right.”

And she was. He deserved it. You deserved someone to keep you safe and he deserved someone who made him smile and someone who could maybe give him the family he'd always craved but never been able to get the time to start.

The last meeting before the Christmas break was coming up and he knew he would only get a limited window before you went to your mom's for some family time. He had to be quick about asking you out.

When the next meeting came, he was worried you might not show up but you did, a little nervous but still there. He thought you were exceptionally brave to recount what had happened to you in the alleyway but when people started clapping for him and his rescue, he cut them off.

“Guys, this is not about me. I was just in the right place at the right time. This is her story. Please listen to her and support her.”

The meeting dragged. He felt like everyone was embellishing their stories purely to make the time go slower before he could get you alone but finally, _finally_ he was about to make his move when some guy just swooped in and started talking to you from the group.

He had to watch the interaction, just like the date before with his fists curling and his teeth grinding. He hated it. He hated any man coming near you it seemed.

What excuse could this bozo possibly have for trying to flirt after the story you just told?

“Oh Steve!” you call to him before you walk out of the door with the guy. “This is Ted, we used to go to high school together. I didn't realise he was a newbie here.”

“Don't be shy, princess,” Ted laughs. “We used to date, Mr Rogers. Small world, huh?”

“Yeah, very small,” Steve does a forced smile. “You two gonna catch up?”

“Yeah. You're welcome to join us?” you offer.

“I don't want to third wheel. You go have fun. I have some chairs to stack.”

He was sure by the way your face fell a little that the bitterness in his tone had bled through. He tried to mask it with a warm grin but you'd already caught his dissatisfaction.

“See you around, Steve,” you mumble before going.

“Fuck!” Steve waits until you've gone out of the door and kicks a chair so hard that it flies across the room and combusts into steel and plastic.

This couldn't be happening. He was so close. So close.

Ted was definitely trying to reconnect in a way that was more than ex-partners and they both knew it. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

Steve's last vestige of self control left him and the red mist completely took over his brain. He was angrier than he'd been in a long time, the same kind of anger he'd felt in Wakanda after the battle was lost. It felt like no matter what he tried, you were being stolen away from him, just like Bucky was stolen all those years ago.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair and he was going to do something about it. Steve was tired of second place.

He broke into your apartment in a way that you'd never be able to tell and just sat there waiting for you to come back. When you did, you weren't alone which infuriated him more.

The second the door opened and you and Ted strode in, giggling about some private in-joke, Steve stood up.

“What the hell, man?” Ted blinks before you whirl around and spot Steve.

“What are you doing in my apartment? How did you get in?!” you fumble over the words.

“Not important. Get lost, Ted,” Steve growls.

“Listen, Mr Rogers, I don't know what you think is happening here but-”

“-Oh I know what's happening here. Don't play me for a fool, son. Now I said get out and you might want to take that advice before I start breaking bones.”

Ted flees, leaving you completely shocked and frozen to the spot in his wake. Steve takes that opportunity to lock the door.

“Why are you here, Steve?” you ask quietly.

“Because I got tired of you blowing me off, giving me mixed signals. I can't take it any more,” he grabs you by the throat and pushes you against the wall, hand impossibly big around your small neck. “What the fuck do you want from me?! You keep flirting with me, you keep wanting to know about my welfare, you keep touching me and yet you're going out with any guy who will say hello to you nicely.”

“Steve!” you're trying to prise his fingers away. “Steve, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I was just trying to be friendly and-”

“-what you did was _not_ friendly and we both know it,” he snarls in your face, making you blanch. “Don't you dare lie to me or I'll get really mad.”

“I'm not lying Steve, I-”

He lets go of your throat before spinning you in place and bringing his hand down hard across your ass. Once, twice, three times in quick succession.

“I said _don't lie_ ,” he hisses.

“I-”

You don't even get the words out before he's doing it again. When he's soothing out the burn, he notices you're pushing back into his hand, desperate for something positive rather than rage.

“Tell me the truth,” he puts his hand back around your neck and pulls you into him, back flush to his chest. From here he can smell the scent of your hair and feel the pulsing of your heartbeat which was drumming in your body.

“Steve,” your breath is hitched and he feels you swallow hard. “Steve, I'm just a nobody. You're Captain America. I'm not the woman for you.”

“Yes you are. You're kind, humble, beautiful and you need someone to take care of you. All those lonely nights, eating cheap food and only being able to bring yourself off so weakly. You need me in your life.”

“How did you know that? About me...about me playing with myself?” you sound afraid.

“Because I kept a vigil on your apartment. You wanted me to be nearby, remember? I was helping you. So don't stand there and say you're not interested because I _heard_ you say my name when you came.”

“That's just a fantasy!”

“And it can be your reality, _our_ reality. We can be together, sweetheart. Don't you want that? Don't you just want to know I'll take care of you no matter what?”

“By stalking me?!”

“And if I hadn't of, your date would've violated you. Is that what you wanted?” he bites at your earlobe. “To be raped in an alleyway?”

“Stop it. Just stop it.”

“I'll stop when you admit you want me,” his other hand is moving down your body. “When you admit you'd rather it was my hand than yours.”

Caged against his bulk, you could barely move and he knew it but you seemed too scared to do anything so he carried on pushing the limits, letting his fingers delve into the waistband of your jeans and against the bare flesh of your skin. Within moments, he was skating through slick folds and he grins, knowing that your body was betraying you, even if you couldn't say anything out loud.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispers gently, walking backwards so you both entered the bedroom.

“Steve, this isn't right!” you start freaking out. “This-”

“Shhhh, it's okay sweetheart. It's okay. Calm down,” his hand moves rhythmically within your panties and he can tell you're stuck between fright and arousal. “I just want to be good to you.”

He pulls his hand out and uses his weight to throw you on the bed before getting on top of you. It was too easy to get your wrists in one of his hands so he could rip the fabric of your clothes away like it was cheap paper. Your body up close was a work of art and he was hard, painfully hard and so desperate to mark you up as his, to claim you.

“You ever think about me like this?” he whispers as his fingers resume their spot, even though you try to clamp your thighs together. “Holding you down? Pleasing you? Answer me, sweetheart. I wanna hear it. Remember I don't like lies.”

“Yes,” you admit, a thick tear curving horizontally along your cheekbone.

“Why are you crying? You have that fantasy now. I'm only gonna please you.”

He slipped two fingers into your tight channel, slick, hot and inviting and your eyes briefly fluttered closed. He was winning you over as he moved them in and out, curling against that hidden spot. He could see it.

“That's it, baby. Just enjoy it. That's all I want,” he coos.

Using the pad of his thumb, he rubs at your clit as he pumps his fingers faster. You're beginning to lose control, stop fighting so much and he watches with abject fascination as you become more and more preoccupied with trying to tip yourself over the edge. The need to cum was outweighing your fear and your legs were tensing, shaking with the effort.

“Come on, let me see it,” he urges you on.

With a loud shout that was bound to annoy the neighbours, you arched back and came violently, pussy squeezing his fingers hard. All he could see was your parted lips and heaving chest.

“See? Isn't it so much better having someone look after you?” Steve takes the opportunity to strip since you're out of commission for a while. “Now you can take care of me.”

“I...what?” you blink.

He's stuffed his full length into you before you can realise what's going on and you make such a raucous gasp that he's worried he's hurt you for a moment before he feels you relax more underneath him. He needs to remember he's not a small man and to be careful but something about you just brought out the wildness in him, the primal aggression.

All he could think about was cumming in you, filling you up, wanting there to be physical evidence you were his in the months to come.

So he went as hard as he dared, bed shaking under the movement as he let go of your wrists to brace himself better. You didn't push him away, your hands twisting in the sheets instead, trying to hold onto something.

“God, I have needed you for so long,” he purrs, kissing your neck. “Kiss me.”

You took some coaxing, not willing to give in completely but soon, when he angled his thrusts to hit your oversensitive clit too, you couldn't help it any more. You even started bucking back against him for more friction.

Steve knew he was taking advantage of your non-existent sex life, your grief and your loneliness but he reasoned that you two needed to find each other. You needed each other.

“That's it, baby. You take what you want from me,” he says hoarsely, knowing he's not got long to last.

He's too excited, too worked up to go all night.

It ends in a messy grind, both of you determined to get him as deep as possible as he cums hard and he feels you twitching around him as you manage to cum too.

Panting, spent and satisfied, he pulls out, relishing the sight of his cum leaking from your abused pussy. Already the fantasy of helping you, as his pregnant wife, to get around the house was playing in his mind. God, he would dote on you, spoil you.

He just wanted to be useful, he wanted to be needed at heart.

“What now?” you ask tentatively.

“Now? Now I'm gonna do what I promised. Keep you safe, make you a kept woman.”

“I'm....I'm scared, Steve. This is...”

“I know. I won't do this again, unless you liked it that is,” he kisses your forehead. “Just give me a chance. You liked me before. I'm choosing this, I'm choosing _you_. I want _you_. No more games or invading your privacy, I promise.”

“Okay, okay I'll do it. I need to go get some Plan B though so-”

“-No,” he says firmly. “It won't work. Supersoldier, remember?”

It was a lie. He had no idea if Plan B would work but he couldn't take the chance.

“But what if I get pregnant?” your eyes go wide.

“Then I will happily raise our baby. This could be what we need, a common focus. A family that's just us and our child...or children. Something good to come out of this tragedy. Didn't you want kids with your fiancé?”

“Someday but-”

“-so why does it matter? You know I will give my life to protect any family I have. You'd want for nothing, you'd have everything and you'd have all of me. Your own Avenger.”

“You're making it seem like a trade deal,” you inch away slowly from him.

“It's not just that. I like you, I really really like you. Just let me show you how you can love me in time.”

He could see the cogs whirring in your brain, weighing up the options. Honestly, he's run you into a corner here. You both know he won't give up if you say no.

“Just don't hurt me,” you whisper, curling into yourself.

“Sweetheart, I would never do that,” he says softly. “I am the man you thought I was, I'm just...scarred, mentally that is, by what I've seen. I'm not thinking straight because I'm afraid of losing my chance with you.”

You regard him for such a long time that he's wondering if he should speak again but you just nod and allow him to spoon into the back of you on the bed.

He can feel you shaking a little, confused no doubt by the sex and his behaviour but you'd come around in time. You'd see this was the best option. You'd see he was the clear choice.

Steve's own trauma seemed to recede as he held you against him, softly humming a tune his mother used to sing when he was a kid. He knew then he'd never let you go.

You were his sanctuary, his safe harbour.

You'd finally given him peace.


End file.
